


Jewelstar Alchemist

by CountDorku



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Fullmetal Alchemist 2003/Brotherhood Fusion, Automail, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Canon Trans Character, Gen, Long, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Bow (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountDorku/pseuds/CountDorku
Summary: In an Etheria lit by a sun, powered by alchemy and shaped by gunpowder and steel, three alchemist siblings search for a way to heal their wounds.
Relationships: Adora/Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Jewelstar (She-Ra), Jewelstar & Starla & Tallstar & Bow (She-Ra), Jewelstar & Starla & Tallstar (She-Ra), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Jewelstar Alchemist

**Author's Note:**

> First, a note: While this will draw a lot from various Fullmetal Alchemist canons, do not assume it will be just a straight retelling of any of them. There are a _lot_ of changes, which will become more obvious as the plot unfolds.
> 
> Secondly, while a general warning for blood, death, violence and body horror is given, I will tag individual chapters with more relevant triggers.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Star Siblings come to the city of Windspire, where a new religion - helmed by the miracle-working Brother Systugi - has taken power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains violence, some body horror and some blood, as well as themes related to grief and loss.

_Elberon, now_

A branch tapped against the window, the emberflowers glowing a faint red as the night closed in.

The electric light – a rarity in such a small town – played over Bow’s face and the piece of metal he was working on. He frowned as he studied the abrupt termination of the metal, which had apparently been shortened by at least a foot. “This is _sheer_. Something _cut through_ this. What the hell have you three been up to?” 

“It’s a long story,” said Tallstar grimly, as Bow disconnected the wreckage of her left arm from its socket.

A few seconds later, Jewelstar’s hands stopped moving, and Starla threw in, “Several long stories, actually.”

“I’d like to know,” said Bow firmly. “For one thing, getting this stuff in order is going to take a while. A story is at least something to keep us going. Also, if I know how you got wrecked up this badly, I can think about how to make it better in future.” A smile dashed across his face. “Call it equivalent exchange, I guess.”

“In that case, Bow, I think you should actually look after Starla first.” Tallstar shrugged; it was much less expressive than it could have been, mostly because only one of her arm prostheses was still attached, and even that looked a bit ragged. “If we’re going to talk a lot, it’s only fair that she gets to hear it. Otherwise Jewelstar’s arms might just fall off from signing along with talking, and that would make this take even longer.”

Jewelstar shot her a dirty look, but his hands kept moving, and Starla giggled a few seconds later.

“All right then.” Bow smiled and signed, _Can I see your implants?_

The youngest of the siblings nodded and pushed back her giant cloud of hair, revealing the metal plate that had replaced her ear on that side-

Glory loomed over Starla protectively, white feathers almost glowing in the electric light, and Bow stumbled backwards a little bit. The owl was new. She was going to take some getting used to.

“I’m not gonna hurt her, I promise,” he said, holding his hands up to show that the only thing he was holding was a screwdriver. After a few moments, Glory nodded and withdrew.

Moving carefully, Bow pried off the cover plate and looked at the internals. “Yeah, this is going to be another replacement job. Jewelstar, could you fish out the spare?”

“Just a moment,” said the trio’s unofficial leader. He finished signing the conversation for Starla – who could hardly read the lips of a man looking at the side of her head, after all – and extracted a bundle of mechanical parts from one of the drawers in Bow’s workbench.

A few minutes later, Starla flicked a switch, fiddled with the little dial until the volume was satisfactory, and said, “Thanks. Signing is useful, but I’d rather hear this, if I can.” She grinned, an expression with a trace of wickedness to it. “For one thing, this might be the most we ever hear our brother say.”

Jewelstar cleared his throat noisily. “Very well,” he said. “The ideal time to begin is probably Windspire. We…needed to get out of Central for a while.”

“And, for once, not because we blew up General Kur’s office or anything,” Tallstar threw in.

Bow wished he could be sure she was joking.

* * *

_Windspire, some time ago_

Windspire was on the edges of the Crimson Wastes – the most remote part of Brightmoon, and the driest. It was a warm day, and the morning prayer was just beginning on the radio as Sanciara stepped out into the street.

Amirenzo looked up from his flowers – roses, this time – and waved as she walked past. The river was low, but with the miraculous water Brother Systugi had brought, a true show of divine favour at the height of summer, there was enough to go around that he wasn’t trying to dehydrate himself for the sake of his beloved garden. His wife, Leora, the butcher, gave a more restrained nod; Brother Systugi’s newly decreed dietary restrictions had caused her some trouble, what with the consumption and sale of chicken meat suddenly becoming outlawed, and while she didn’t begrudge Sanciara’s faith the way, say, Vambra did, there was still some tension there. And over _there_ was little Teferro, playing cops and robbers with his friends – outdated, with law enforcement having mostly been taken over by the Faithful, but even the most zealous couldn’t begrudge a child playing a game, surely.

Vambra. Now that thought was a bit of a damper on her mood. Her former friend had been there for her, after Evetta…didn’t come back from the war, but she’d turned on her in the end, as the Faith had taken prominence.

She shook her head, banishing the thought. Vambra was probably just jealous anyway. As devout as she’d been, she’d never gotten anything from her beliefs – and now a new, truer Faith was here, with a leader who could work miracles, and she’d rather stew in her own bile than admit she backed the wrong horse. Not that you were supposed to bet on horses now; that was sinful.

The spring in her step was, admittedly, perhaps a little forced as she headed for the cathedral, past the giant banners showing the face of Keldor, his hair spreading to form a star-like disc.

“You’re in a hurry,” said an unfamiliar voice.

Sanciara spun around to see an equally unfamiliar face. His skin was a purple-brown colour – not as purple as Vambra’s, but not too far off – and his hair and beard were a very pale lavender. He was wearing a metal eyepatch –

It moved.

So, not an eyepatch, then.

It wasn’t like Sanciara was unfamiliar with automail. Ebruna had fought in Thaymor, and had come back with gleaming metal from her knee down. It was starting to show some wear on the knee, these days. She hadn’t seen an automail eye before, but if you could make an arm or leg out of metal and make it work, it made sense that you could do the same with an eye. She just hadn’t been expecting it, that was all.

“I’m headed for the cathedral,” she told the stranger. “I need to make some offerings.”

“On a Thursday?” The eye that wasn’t metal was dark and piercing, and the stranger felt like he was using it to look right through her. “Must be something pretty serious.” 

“Excuse my brother,” said another voice, and a girl stepped out of a doorway behind him. She had close-cropped pink hair and dark eyes, and Sanciara could hear metal grinding and clanking as she moved; more automail, by the sound of it. “He means well, really, he’s just not great with people.”

“I’m trying to be friendly,” protested the first stranger, a defensive note creeping into his voice.

“There’s a difference between being friendly and conducting an inquisition, JS.” The girl with the rose hair turned to look at Sanciara; now that she was standing relatively still, Sanciara realised she was at least six feet tall. “Sorry. I’m Tallstar, and this is my brother, who makes a little too big of a deal about being _the Jewelstar Alchemist_ so _Jewelstar_ is all he answers to these days.”

“It’s a good title,” said Jewelstar, the defensive note in his voice developing into more of a defensive chord.

“Not the point, JS.” 

“Uh…” Sanciara steeled herself and said, “Are you looking for someone?” A thought struck her. “Did Vambra call for you?”

The two looked at each other for a moment, and then Jewelstar said, audibly forcing down the defensiveness, “I don’t think we know any Vambra.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just thought…you look a lot like her, I thought you might be related.”

“Not all Starellians know each other, lady,” Tallstar told her.

“We don’t know for sure that we’re not related, though,” said Jewelstar. “Any idea where we might find this…Vambra?”

“Oldtown. That’s where the people who can’t accept the Faith hold their services, these days.”

“The Faith?” said Tallstar, sounding out the capital letter.

“Of course, you’re outsiders…you wouldn’t have heard the word of Brother Systugi. He came here to lead us to the word of Keldor, the true god.”

The two exchanged looks, and then Tallstar said, “Keldor would be the one on the banners? Not many people around here are pale blondes, more’s the pity.”

“He is the light that brings the dawn, and the Faithful will be uplifted and sheltered by that light.”

Jewelstar’s remaining eye narrowed, and he said, “We won’t detain you any longer. We may go and check in with this Vambra of yours.”

“If you find her, tell her that I’m doing _just fine_ without her, thanks for asking,” said Sanciara, a little more vehemently than she’d intended.

The strangers looked at each other again, and then Jewelstar said, “And you are?”  
“Oh! Sorry. How silly of me.” She curtseyed. “My name is Sanciara.”

“Sanciara,” repeated Jewelstar with a nod. “Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find what you need, Sanciara.”

* * *

Oldtown hadn’t proved difficult to find. While the buildings were a bit, well, older, more worn down by the passing years, there was an obvious effort to make it feel a bit livelier – while the sandstone in the other areas had been left bare, here there were coloured hangings and bright displays in windows.

As they passed a tumbledown church, the small bell in its tower pluckily striving against the powerfully built woman with purple skin and a long red ponytail gave them a wave. “Greetings, Cousins,” she said, in the tones of someone trying to be sociable while not really in the mood.

“I don’t know if we’re related,” said Jewelstar.

“All Starellians are family, Cousin. You should know that.”

Tallstar stepped in and said, “We lost our parents a long time ago, friend – Cousin. We’re…not exactly up on the culture.”

“Oh.” This sat in the air for a few seconds, and then the burly woman added, “Vambra, then.”

“Jewelstar, and this is Tallstar.” From Tallstar’s vantage point, it looked like the handshake was quite rough, and Jewelstar wasn’t quite up to responding in kind. “Someone wanted us to give you a post-breakup spiel. Average height, dark hair, slightly racist, said her name was…Sanclara?”

“Sanciara.” Vambra suddenly looked very tired. “We were…friends, once.”

“ _Just_ friends?” said Tallstar.

“ _Just_ friends. She and Evetta were always closer, anyway…until Evetta was called up for military service. She never came back.”

“And she got religion to cope?”

Vambra gave Jewelstar a look and said, “She ‘got religion’ because Systugi offered her something she wanted, and she’s willing to overlook a _lot_ to do it.”

“And these ‘miracles’ of his?” said Tallstar lightly.

“Some kind of trick, it has to be.” Tallstar could tell the other Starellian was getting angry; good, that’d get her to open her up a bit. “Would a holy man demand tribute to do good? Would he drive believers out of their cathedral and take it for his own?”

“He could’ve just miracled one up for himself, right?” said Tallstar.

There was a loud crashing, clanging noise from the church, and Vambra started to move, Jewelstar at her heels. Tallstar shrugged and followed, gears grinding as she moved; she made a mental note to clean the sand out of her prostheses. 

* * *

The two burly Faithful standing at the cathedral doors nodded to Sanciara as she entered.

She noted the regulars as she stepped in: there was Ebruna, her metal knee grinding against the floor tiles, who prayed for forgiveness and some respite from the nightmares, and over there was Toranio, who prayed for relief from his debts.

She was in luck; Brother Systugi was at the altar. Not for the first time, she wondered how he managed to stay so pale in _Windspire_ , a place where you could get a tan just by opening the window; his face was the only light spot on his body, between his dark tonsure and his black cassock. The only gap in his austere mood was a ruby ring on his left hand, which he had told her represented his marriage to the Faith.

“Ah, Sanciara,” he said, smiling. “I thought we would see you today.”

“Yes, Brother. I brought what I could gather.” A cloth bag landed on the altar, among the other offerings; it clinked like too few coins. “I had…hoped that Keldor might see fit to-”

“Not yet, my child. Not yet.” He patted her gently on the arm. “Have faith, and I promise you: you will see her again.”

“I know, Brother. I…must have faith.”

“Good, child. Good.”

He nodded, and Sanciara made her way into the pews.

“Hey.”

This voice came from another Starellian – her face and body were slightly rounder than the last two, and she had much more hair – a honey-coloured mass that Sanciara’s mind could only describe as “floofy”.

There was a distinct resemblance to the last two, though. “I assume your name is something-Star?”

“Starla, actually. I infer you’ve met my siblings?” A wry smile danced on her features. “I promise I’m the nice one.”

“They were…nice enough. Didn’t seem the religious sort, though.”

Starla thought for a moment. “I’ve heard about fifty references to _the Dawn_ since I stepped in here. Did you try that line on them?”

“Yes…”

Starla made a face. “Jewelstar hates the sunrise. I can’t say I’m that fond of it, either. Bad memories.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sanciara,

“Don’t be; it’s not your fault.”

“You could pray and make offerings, and maybe Keldor will ease your burdens.” Sanciara smiled beatifically. “It’s why I’m here. Brother Systugi, he…he can work miracles. I know that someday, Keldor will see the depth of my faith…and part the veil of death. Bring Evetta back to me.”

Starla’s expression softened, and she said, “Tell me about her.”

“Evetta? She…she never backed down from a fight she believed in. She once threw a man out of his own shop window for swindling her. She used to talk about how she’d…” She began to shudder, just a little bit. “…She’d come back, once she’d done her service, and we’d…we’d grow fruits, and…I’m sorry, I…”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I know what it’s like to lose someone.” The smile was gone, now; Starla’s expression was bleak, bitter, totally at odds with her earlier sunny disposition. “Our parents died when we were very young. A big loss, a lover or a parent, it…never really leaves you, does it? There are days when you’d…do anything, just for a fragment of them. A touch, a smell…the sound of their voice.”

The only thing Sanciara registered in the next few minutes was Starla’s comforting hand gently patting her shoulder as she struggled to hold back the tears.

* * *

The noise, from the look of it, had been the bell slipping loose from its moorings and crashing through the wooden floor of the belltower, leaving it lying, dented and broken, on the ground. Lying next to the fallen bell was a tall, wiry lizardman, presumably the bell-ringer; he was groaning, so at least he was still alive.

Jewelstar knelt beside the lizardman, coolly and efficiently checking for injuries, before snapping his fingers at Vambra. “Do you trust the doctors here?”

Obviously taken aback, Vambra thought for a moment. “Lizzra knows her business, and she doesn’t take sides.”

“Send for her. I don’t know about this man’s back, and I’d rather have an expert look him over than try to move him.”

Vambra nodded to one of the few people in the church, and the man took off at a run. She turned to the bell, her expression mournful, and said, “And so we lose something else.”

“Not necessarily, Cousin,” said Tallstar, and cracked her knuckles with a sound like metal scraping. “Let me take a look at this.”

She concentrated, pressed her hands together with a faint _clang_ , and touched them to the bell…

Vambra stared at the now-intact bell, sitting unscathed on the floor, and said, “Not much of a miracle, Cousin. If you seek to challenge Systugi, you may need to up your game.”

Tallstar smiled slightly; now they were getting somewhere. “So Systugi does a lot of this, does he?”

“To hear his followers tell it, he makes the sun rise in the morning,” growled Vambra. “But he first took power after he ended the drought with water from nowhere.” 

“I don’t think it was nowhere,” said Jewelstar absently. “Hydrogen and oxygen aren’t _rare_. You can get 30 litres of the stuff out of a human body, if you know how.”

“You’re not suggesting that he’s making it out of blood?” demanded Tallstar.

“I don’t know for sure _where_ he’s getting it, but I think we both know _how_. And if he’s able to do it at that kind of scale, enough to end a drought, we may have our lead.”

“Should I know what you two are talking about?” demanded Vambra.

“Good news, Cousin; I think you’re right.” Jewelstar’s smile had a faint edge to it. “I think Systugi is running a scam, and I think he’s using alchemy to do it.”

* * *

_Windspire_

“Oh, you’re back,” said Sanciara, as she stepped out of the church, Starla just behind her. Her eyes were still a little bit red, but Starla had helped her dry them, at least. “I assume you had a talk with Vambra?”

“She had a surprising amount to say…as did you. Let’s just say that I haven’t made up my mind yet.” Jewelstar gestured to Starla. “We were hoping we could have a private word with our sister, though?”

“Oh. Of course.” She stepped away, and the three Starellians huddled together. After about a minute of whispered, near-inaudible discussion, they turned back to her; Starla appeared less happy about it than the other two.

“We’d like to meet this Brother Systugi, if possible,” said Jewelstar. “Might you be able to arrange an introduction?”

“What an excellent idea! I’m sure that once you see what he can do, all your doubts will just…”

“Miraculously vanish?” said Tallstar, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” said Sanciara, who had learned a long time ago that the best way to deal with this kind of snide scepticism was just to ignore it.

Somehow, she could tell that Starla was shooting her brother dirty looks as she led them into the cathedral.

* * *

_Elberon, now_

A tiny bell rang out from Jewelstar’s pocket, and he rose from his chair – his motions a little more careful than usual, as they often were when he only had his original eye to navigate with. “Excuse me; I need to take my pills. Don’t worry; I know where the pump is.”

When he pushed the door open, a bundle of fur and metal slipped through it.

“KT!” said Bow, as the dog interposed herself between him and Tallstar, whose replacement arm was, by now, about half-finished. KT was a fuzzy little gremlin, her black eyes alight with both love and mischief; right now, they were narrowed, and she was growling. One of her hind legs was metal; it looked like it was kept well-polished and well-maintained. “Sorry, she’s…mine, I guess.”

“You guess?” said Tallstar.

“Well, I didn’t exactly buy her. She just showed up around here, a couple of years ago, missing a leg. I gave her food, and eventually she kind of came in. I rigged up the automail to give her a slightly more stable base to stand on. It took her a while, but she’s pretty used to it now – she’s even able to climb stairs with it.” He made a face. “Very protective, though. She takes a while to get used to guests – it’s part of why she’s usually not allowed in here when I’m working.”

“She’s adorable,” said Starla, and slid in next to the dog. “You’re just protecting your master, I know,” she cooed. “But you don’t need to worry about us, KT. We want to look after him too, okay?” She held out a closed hand, and after a moment, KT sniffed it. “That’s right. You don’t wanna be too crabby, do you? You want to be friends.” Moving slowly, she gave KT a gentle little _scritch_ on the side of the neck, and the dog relaxed, apparently accepting that these people were Allowed To Be Here, at least for the moment. Glory, perched on a nearby armour stand, squinted at the dog suspiciously. “We’ve already got so much in common, after all. You have an automail leg, I have automail ears.” 

“It may just be me,” said Tallstar to Bow, “but it sounds to me like you’re _hers_ , rather than the other way around.”

“That’s…ah, damn it.” Bow made another face. “You’re right.”

“I frequently am-”

The door swung open again and Jewelstar stepped back in.

* * *

“Ah, my child,” said Systugi; his smile had never been the warmest, but it was a welcome sight to Sanciara, anyway. “And who are these newcomers?”

“Newcomers to the town, Brother. They are…curious about the Faith.”

“This is a good day, then.” Systugi made an expansive gesture, as if welcoming them. “I am but a humble servant of Keldor, who, through me, wrought an end to the drought-”

“Miracles are all well and good, Brother, but that’s not what I want to know.” A cold smile spread over Jewelstar’s face; it actually looked uncannily like Systugi’s. “I’d like to ask about your faith’s philosophy. The foundation stone of your beliefs, if you will.”

At the words _philosophy_ and _stone_ , Systugi visibly flinched. He rallied quickly, though. “We believe that the most important causes in the world are truth and peace.”

“Which is more important, though?” Jewelstar’s smile was gone, leaving only the cold. Sanciara began to wonder if the jewel in his name was supposed to be a diamond or something. “Truth can bring conflict, and peace can be built on a lie. When they conflict, which should win out?”

Systugi drew himself up to his full height and said, a snappish note creeping into his voice, “You are not taking this seriously; you want a fight, not a conversation. I pray that someday you will see the light-”

“I saw the light a long time ago, _Brother_. Everyone thinks it’s golden. It’s not. _The light_ is red. _Blood_ red.” Systugi’s left hand, where he wore his ring, twitched at Jewelstar’s words, and he covered it with his right. “ _The light_ brings the kind of wisdom that you’ll never have. The kind that you pay for. The kind that _hurts_ -”

“ _Enough._ ” Surprisingly, this came from Starla; her voice, usually so gentle, cut like a knife. “I think he gets the point, Jewelstar.” She gave Systugi a polite nod and said, “Thank you for your time.” Moving quickly, she and Tallstar bundled Jewelstar out of the door and headed with him out into the street.

Systugi was already a very pale man, and it may just have been Sanciara’s imagination, but he looked a little bit paler to her. She bowed. “I’m sorry, Brother. I didn’t expect them to be-”

“It is not your fault, child; their sins, their wrath and their pride, are their own. Pray for them, if you would; pray for their souls.” He turned towards the stairs. “I think the time has come for another broadcast.” 

* * *

Vambra raised her head as the radios started blaring. Usually, the false prophet transmitted his lies three times a day: morning, noon and night. In Oldtown, a few people usually kept them running just to listen in, make sure he wasn’t about to start calling for violence. This late morning speech was out of the usual schedule, and that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Three enemies of the Faith have come to our town,” said Systugi’s voice, his tones splintered by static. “They are prideful, selfish and deceitful. Look for three Starellians: one has automail hands, another has an automail eye -” 

Vambra started to run. This had all the signs of a disaster in the making.

* * *

“You _had_ to bait him,” said Tallstar sourly.

The siblings were huddled in an alleyway a few streets away from the cathedral. Occasionally, heavy footsteps would thud past the opening as Systugi’s “Faithful” searched for them.

“I lost my temper,” said Jewelstar ruefully.

“Yeah, I noticed. Mr Ice Cold here can’t get through a simple conversation without picking a fight.”

“I got what I wanted, though.”

“You _wanted_ to have us marked for death?”

“Knock it off, you two,” hissed Starla. “JS, what did you get?”

“He reacted to _philosophy_ and _stone_ , and he covered his ring.”

“It’s not much to go on,” said Starla.

“It’s better than nothing,” pointed out Tallstar. “Besides, I’m starting to really dislike Brother Systugi. I’m game for going after him-” 

“Minimal violence,” Starla said, her voice taking on a little bit of a steely edge. “I’d prefer not to kill any of these people – the ordinary citizens, at least. Sanciara seemed…nice, you know? It’s really only Systugi and his thugs who are the problem here.”

“Systugi and his thugs only have power because the people support them…” There was a faint scratching sound as Jewelstar rubbed his goateed chin. “We cut them off, Systugi is just an asshole with a couple of leg-breakers.”

“But how do we cut them off?” said Tallstar.

“Get the ring off him,” Starla said. “No miracles, no Faith. No Faith, no Faithful.” She grimaced. “I wish we didn’t have to go back to the cathedral, though. Something about it sets my teeth on edge.”

* * *

Sanciara rose from the pew and made for the side galleries, where Brother Systugi and the Faithful made their homes. The sound of breaking glass had been very faint, and it didn’t look like any of the other laity had noticed it.

The door had been left unlocked; apparently Brother Systugi had been in a hurry to make his broadcast, whatever it had been about.

She headed up the stairs.

* * *

“Hello, Brother,” said Tallstar sardonically, and Systugi spun around on the expensive carpet. “We’d like to have a word with you. Discuss philosophy, you know.”

“You’re braver or dumber than I thought.” Systugi gestured to one of the four hulking Faithful who flanked him. “How do you hope to defeat one who wields the favour of Keldor himself?”

“Big talk for a man who gets all his power from a rock,” snapped Jewelstar. “We know how you work your so-called miracles. Your ring. It’s a Philosopher’s Stone, isn’t it?”

“My ring,” grated Systugi, “is the favour of the true god-”

“Then you won’t mind going without it, will you?” cut in Starla. “If your god is with you, then he’s with you whether or not you’re wearing it.”

“Cute. But futile.” Systugi waved a hand to his goons, the red gemstone glinting in the light of noon as he did so. “Kill them.”

A wooden truncheon, stolen from a police station if Jewelstar was any judge, scythed down towards them –

A metallic noise echoed as Tallstar caught it in one hand. The grinding of gears sounded; after a few seconds, the truncheon exploded into a shower of splinters. The towering Faithful barely had a chance to react before Tallstar’s other hand lashed out, the metallic fist hitting like a cannonball.

Systugi stepped aside as the Faithful slid past him, obviously in no further state to pay attention to affairs.

The next Faithful charged _past_ Tallstar, nimbly evading her attempt to trip him, and lunged at Starla with a hatchet -

The floor came up to meet him.

In other circumstances, that would mean he fell over. But in this case, the floor literally came up to meet him. The floorboards rippled, and then reshaped themselves into a pillar, thrusting up to strike him in the chin in the strangest uppercut anyone had ever seen.

Jewelstar rose, taking his hands off the floor. “I’d apologise,” he said coolly, “but your man did try to hit my sister with an axe. I take that sort of thing personally.”

“I see,” rumbled Systugi. “Then all that talk about _seeing the light_ …”

“You started it.”

“Don’t you see? You’ve already lost.” Systugi smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “You tampered in God’s domain…and I bear his favour-”

“Come off it. You’re just an alchemist with a powerful rock. It’s a _very_ powerful rock, but still a rock.” Tallstar held out a hand. “Look, you want to run your little scam, _fine_. We don’t _like_ it, but we’re not actually here to fix everything in the world. Just give us the stone for five minutes, and we’ll leave you to roll in the proceeds of your swindling until the townsfolk get fed up with you not keeping your promises and string you up by your own intestines or whatever it is they do around here to people like you.”

“That is your mistake, for the Stone _is_ the favour of God.”

Jewelstar’s remaining eyebrow shot up. “Sticking to your guns about the Keldor thing. I almost respect your guts.”

“Keldor?” Systugi chuckled. “Oh, _Keldor_ is a joke. Lord Superbia gave me this ring, and tasked me with building him an army. Given enough time and enough miracles, eventually they will follow me anywhere.”

“And the plan for this…army?” demanded Jewelstar.

“They would die,” Systugi said calmly. “The Faith – the _true_ Faith, not this hollow imitation – needs its foot soldiers. I will provide Lord Superbia with warriors who will die for Him, and He will grant me power. Immortality. And all I need to do is a few parlour tricks. Make water, that sort of thing. A good deal, wouldn’t you say?”

“And the ones who want their loved ones brought back?” Starla’s expression was like a thundercloud. “We both know that attempting that has a price, and I don’t think you’d be willing to pay it yourself.”

“Of course not,” Systugi said, dismissively. “It doesn’t matter why they serve me, what they hope to gain; what matters is that they do-”

“What?”

Every head swung toward the door to the stairs, behind the priest and his entourage, as Sanciara stepped through.

* * *

Light streamed through the window to one side of the awkward little procession. It glinted on the metal of Jewelstar’s eye and Tallstar’s hand. It shone on Starla’s honey-coloured hair. And it sparkled on a single tear, running down Sanciara’s face.

Systugi hastily pulled on a gentle, fatherly expression. “My child, I was…”

“It’s not true, is it, Brother?” she demanded. “All those horrible things you said…”

“A…ruse to deceive the heretics, my child. You know I wouldn’t mean…”

“And you…you still say that Keldor can truly bring Evetta back?”

“Of course, my child. Of course, you will see her again, someday-”

“Not someday, Brother. Now.”

Systugi’s eyes bugged out. “What?”

“I have given _everything I have_ to Keldor, Brother. I have gone hungry. I have toiled. I have sought out converts. I have lost friends.” Sanciara’s cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were as cold as death. “If I have not given enough, then what do you want? Blood? I will bleed if necessary. Just _bring her back to me_. _Prove_ to me that the terrible things you said were a ruse.”

There was a long pause, and then Systugi shook his head. “Very well, then. I promised that you would see her again, and so you shall.”

The _click_ of a gun’s hammer being drawn back was surprisingly loud for such a small sound.

Systugi shook his head as he raised the pistol. There was a crash as Jewelstar and Starla raced forward, but the two remaining thugs formed a barrier.

“I do wish you hadn’t heard any of that, child. Ah, well.” The fatherly smile turned into a smirk. “Maybe I can even blame your death on the heretics. Won’t _that_ be special? You could be our first martyr.” 

Sanciara closed her eyes and awaited the shot. Dying wasn’t even the worst part. But knowing this –

Knowing she’d given everything, ruined everything for nothing –

Knowing that it had never been real –

It was like reading the letter all over again.

It was like losing her for a second time.

What else was there? She might as well just wait for the shot –

There was a crash of breaking glass, a gunshot, and the faint _ting_ of a bullet striking metal.

“Haven’t you hurt her enough, scum?”

Sanciara opened her eyes to see a powerfully built, white-clad back with a long red ponytail running down it. A very familiar long red ponytail.

“Vambra?”

Vambra rose from her crouch, the huge, shield-like armoured gauntlets on her hands glinting in the light from the window she had broken. The metal plating on one of them was dented; presumably, that was where the bullet had struck.

“Vambra, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Later,” Vambra said, her voice surprisingly calm. “Right now, you need to get to safety.” She brought her arms together, and more shots bounced off the reinforced metal.

On the other side of the corrupt priest, two thuds sounded as Tallstar brought down the guards.

The hammer of Systugi’s gun fell on an empty chamber. He muttered a word that was _extremely_ unfitting for a holy man and pressed his hands to the wall.

There was a flare of light, and he bolted through the door that was there now. Moments later, it formed back into a wall.

“Let’s see if we can find his office,” said Jewelstar. “Maybe he has notes on the ring, or something.” Turning to Vambra, he added, “You should get out of here. There’s no point in the two of you risking your lives for our business.”

Vambra considered this, and reluctantly nodded. “Sanciara has never been a fighter, and with the Faithful roused to violence, they might come after us in Oldtown. My place is there.”

“Go look after your own, Vambra.” Jewelstar’s smile was a little warmer, this time. “We’ll do what we can to take Systugi off the board if we see him again.”

“We’re not going to follow him?” demanded Tallstar.

Jewelstar shrugged. “He knows the terrain, we don’t. I’m not letting him draw us into a trap.”

* * *

The hatred boiling from Systugi was almost a tangible force. The ring on his finger flared with a hell-coloured light as he laid a hand on the old suit of armour and reshaped it into a giant machine gun.

None of the weapons the overthrown faith had stored here for its knights would do the trick. A knife had had a temporary appeal, as had a cheese grater (probably just left here by accident), but right now, the pleasure of watching the Starellians bleed out was too indulgent. The priority now was to kill them a whole lot.

The armour’s discarded helmet – a bulky, single-horned thing, its face styled with an outline almost reminiscent of a fanged skull – glowered at him from the floor. He ignored it.

Footsteps sounded from overhead, in the library. That would be one of them. He couldn’t imagine why they would be there, but prey was prey. In fact, given some of the secrets this building had turned out to possess, it was perfect.

He scurried up the hidden ladder behind the secret door. It was almost silent as he pushed it open; while it was heavy – the bookshelf it was concealed behind worked extremely well _as_ a bookshelf, after all – it was also kept well-oiled and in very good shape these days. He’d made sure of that.

There he was: the one with the automail eye. He took aim slowly and carefully, and squeezed the trigger –

Jewelstar’s hands hit the floor, and moments later, the floor hit Systugi. In the face. The gun continued to fill the air with metal, but Systugi had lost all control of where it was aimed; splinters of wood and scraps of tattered paper filled the air, but Jewelstar was no longer in its path. Indeed, in the confusion, he had ducked between some of the shelves.

Oh, well. It wasn’t like he was going to run low on ammunition. Between the gun, the home ground advantage, and the Stone, the deck was still stacked in his favour.

“Come out, come out, little heretic,” he said, in a voice like he was calling for a cat. “This doesn’t have to be too hard on you; why die tired?”

“You know, _technically_ a heretic is someone who disputes the dogma of their own religion,” said Jewelstar. Systugi’s gun roared to life, tearing through bookshelves and their contents, but none of them hit him. “I’ve never been part of your religion, so what I do isn’t heresy,” he added, from somewhere else. Another hail of lead in that direction failed to make any difference.

“What do you even _want_ here, Starellian?”

“To fix a mistake.” More gunfire; still none of it connected. “Why should my sisters bear the penalty for my hubris?”

“Then you’re the one who-”

“Yes,” said Jewelstar grimly. “And I’m also the one who did this.”

The bookshelf right next to Systugi moved towards him.

He fought down the blind panic and hit the floor. The ring surged, and one of the floorboards shot up as a spike of wood, arresting the fall. He spun towards where he thought Jewelstar had gone, firing blindly.

The gun clicked; that was the last of its ammunition. Systugi bit back a curse, threw it aside and bolted, heading for the broadcasting studio and the pistol he kept there –

Except that there was someone already in there.

“Ah, Brother Systugi,” said the honey-haired Starellian. She wasn’t armed, but she _was_ standing between Systugi and his prize-

She clasped her hands and touched the desk. As part of the wood split off to form a baseball bat, Systugi amended his estimates: she _was_ armed, and she was an alchemist – probably the same kind as her brother. In hindsight, he should perhaps have figured that out before; Jewelstar had basically told him, after all.

A simple gesture, and a decent chunk of the door fell away, reborn as a cudgel. He hurled himself forward, and Starla

“You could have just let us borrow the ring-”

“Heretic scum!” snarled Systugi, “You _dare_ make demands of me? _Me_ , the favoured of Lord Superbia?! I will crush you. I _will_ have my immortality, and if you, or Sanciara, or any of those worthless, grasping scum who call themselves _the Faithful_ have to die for that, then _so be it_.”

“All right, then,” said Starla grimly. Just one question, first.” Her face broke into a broad smile. “Do you have anything else to add to your noon sermon?”

“What?”

Starla raised her hand with the air of a military inspector displaying her badge. In it was a control unit fitted with a simple switch, set to ON.

Starla’s grin took on a vicious edge as she added, “Coming to you live from Windspire Cathedral, it’s the _Brother Systugi is a Clown Show_!” She made a face. “I don’t know why I even bother. Tallstar is so much better at it.”

“This ‘clown’ can still have the last laugh, heretic!” snapped Systugi as he placed both hands on the floor. “The cathedral itself will destroy you-”

There was a loud crack, and Systugi went white. Then, almost in slow motion, the ruby on his ring shattered, the red tint fading from the shards until what was left could have been mistaken for glass.

The false prophet screamed, a sound of almost animal pain. Rising, he fled, blood dripping from his arm.

His right hand stayed behind, merged into the floor in a grisly mess.

* * *

“What, _nothing?_ ” said Jewelstar, irritation evident in every syllable.

“About the only thing is that it’s alchemically neutral. I took some samples, but whatever it is, I couldn’t reshape it.” Starla shook her head. “So much for the Philosopher’s Stone being perfect-”

She walked into Tallstar’s back. After a few seconds, she realised why her sister had stopped.

A few of the gathered Faithful had even managed to light torches. Some had

After a few seconds, the air filled with a general chant of “Burn the heretics!”

“I’ll try not to kill them,” said Tallstar, moving up her steel fists, “but I can’t make any promises-”

“STOP!”

The mob faltered as Sanciara stepped out of a nearby alley. The dark-haired woman was almost floating, held up by rage as much as anything else.

One of them, a tall woman in a carpenter’s leather apron, had apparently been chosen as the spokeswoman. “Sanciara, what are you doing? Brother Systugi said they were-”

“Brother Systugi deceived us! You heard his confession!”

“We thought that was a trick-” began the carpenter.

“The only tricks were Systugi’s! His miracles were frauds; his sermons, lies. His confession was the first time he’s been honest with anyone here; he only wanted what he could take from us.” She visibly deflated, her anger spent. “Just…go home, Sagra. Go home and forget he was ever here. It’s what he deserves.”

A mob can only last as long as it has purpose. Without it, it’s just a lot of people milling about. The broadcast had unsettled them, and now…now, they were seeing Systugi’s most fervent champion, almost in tears as she denounced him.

Starting at the back, people began to drift away. The drift became a torrent.

As soon as the horde had vanished, Sanciara’s knees buckled, and she collapsed into a heap.

* * *

Enough time had passed that Sanciara was able to talk again. By mutual agreement, Starla was leading; Tallstar and Jewelstar were standing back with matching awkward expressions.

“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry we-” Starla let that sentence just drop. It wasn’t like there was a good way to finish it.

“No, you…had to come here. I dread to think what Systugi could have made us into, given time.” Sanciara looked around at the siblings, eyes still red from too much crying over too short a time, and added, “He said you tampered in God’s domain. You said that had a price. Is that…”

“It’s why we have this automail, yes,” said Starla. “When we completed the circle…it took from us.” She pushed back her hair to reveal the gleaming metal behind her ear. “I wanted to hear our mother sing, just one more time…and if it wasn’t for automail, I’d never have heard anything again.”

“And you wanted Systugi’s ring to…”

“Just to heal ourselves.” Tallstar raised her hand, and the metal glinted in the afternoon light as she closed and opened her fist. “This chunk of pig iron is amazing work, the best I’ve ever had. It’ll tell me how much pressure I’m using, and I can usually tell what something can take. I can tell it to hold a hand, swing a bat, lift a hot meat pie…but I can’t feel _any_ of it. Can you blame me for wanting to just touch something with my own fingers again?”

“And your…your attempt at resurrection…did it work?”

_The dawn broke, red as Hell. Red as the bloodstains on the floor. Red as the work they had done, and red as the work were just about to do. Red as the flames that would cleanse the house. Red as pain, and as death, and as punishment._

None of them said anything. That, in itself, was quite an eloquent answer.

“So, even if Systugi had been telling the truth, he couldn’t have brought her back.” Sanciara’s shoulders slumped. “She’s gone.”

“…I’m afraid so,” said Jewelstar. “Doesn’t matter what price you pay, doesn’t matter what power you have…some things are always going to be beyond you. Let the dead stay dead.” He stepped away. “I need to go and get in touch with the Force Captain. There has to be a telephone around here somewhere…”

As Jewelstar and Tallstar strode on ahead, Starla turned to Sanciara and said, “Are you going to be okay?”

“…No. How can I keep going, alone?”

Starla gave her a gentle smile. “Would you be alone, though?” She nodded along the street –

To the first band returning from the Old Quarter to their old homes, Vambra at their head.

“We wouldn’t have made it alone either,” continued Starla, softly. “But our village looked after us, and even after…our mistake…we had each other. You still have friends.”

“I…I understand.”

“Good.” Starla patted her gently on the arm. “Now could you come help me explain it to my brother? I’m getting a little tired of the ‘this-is-all-my-fault’ martyrdom routine.” She fried for a moment in Sanciara’s expression. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. And…thank you.”

“Go home, Sanciara,” said Starla softly. “Get some rest. You’ve got a whole life to figure out. Don’t try to do it until you’re up to it.”

* * *

“Well, Windspire was a bust,” said Jewelstar, down the worst telephone line he’d ever encountered.

“What was…bout lust?”

Jewelstar gritted his teeth. “A _bust_. We didn’t find it.”

“Han…on.” There was a short pause, a crackle, and then the Force Captain’s voice came through a lot clearer. “Is this better?”

“Much. What did you do?”

“I had a tech get the primary wires sorted out.” Her voice was muffled by a little more distance as she called, “It works fine, thanks Terra!” She returned to the telephone handset and added, “You should be careful in Windspire. Intel think they’ve tracked a cult leader down there. Used to go by ‘Stygius’.”

Jewelstar couldn’t suppress the chuckle.

“Something funny, Alchemist?”

“No, ma’am.” Technically Jewelstar and the Force Captain were nearly the same rank, since the State Alchemist system awarded all enlisted alchemists captain rank, but she had a few trump cards that Jewelstar didn’t. “Just that we may have put a spoke in his wheel while we were here. I’ll tell you about it in the debriefing.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I’m being reassigned, which means that you are, too. Our new base of operations is in Central. Contact me when you can find a train; I’ll have someone meet you at the station.”

“Understood.” Jewelstar hung up and turned to face Tallstar. “We’re being reassigned to Central. Force Captain said.”

“Bet she’s happy about that,” said Tallstar with a smirk. “She gets to see the princess again, you know.”

“Why, Tallstar,” said Jewelstar in mock surprise. “Surely you’re not implying that Force Captain Adora has some sort of _crush_ on the future queen of Brightmoon? Why, the _scandal!_ ”

Tallstar punched him gently in the arm.

* * *

_Elberon, now_

KT was curled up at Glory’s feet, and the owl had formed a little nest around the dog with her wings before falling asleep. Moonlight streamed in through the window, and Starla had stifled a couple of yawns so far.

Bow nodded at his handiwork and turned to Tallstar. “Do you feel up to reengaging the nerves? It’s getting late.”

She nodded. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

“Okay then.” Bow tested the weight of the arm, lined it up carefully – and shoved the connectors home.

Tallstar gave a strangled groan. After about ten seconds, she managed, “I like how the one time these arms feel like _anything_ is .”

“I wish I could work some proper nerves into them.” A thought occurred to Bow. “Wait. In that story, you didn’t get cut up at all. How does it explain this damage?”

“It’s how we found out that the Philosopher’s Stone was real,” Jewelstar told him, “and that…” He trailed off.

“…And that?”

A hush fell over the room. Jewelstar’s remaining eye was firmly trained on the floor, and Starla couldn’t meet Bow’s gaze. Even Tallstar seemed uncomfortable.

“…I’m sorry, Bow,” said Tallstar, at last. “We will tell you tomorrow, I promise, it’s just…”

“…some wounds don’t heal easily,” finished Tallstar. “It might get rough.””

“I mean, we do have a lot more work to do,” said Bow, as Jewelstar and Starla manoeuvred their sister off the table and to her wheelchair. “You can give me the details as we get the rest of your prostheses up to spec.”

* * *

_Windspire, some time ago_

Systugi had found the secret passage in the crypts below the cathedral during his initial takeover. He’d had it blocked; no sense allowing your enemies a convenient way in. Now he was paying for that decision.

While the few guards he still had held the door upstairs closed against the mob, he clumsily pulled a rock out of the way. He’d tried to use what alchemy he did know to get through, but he’d never been particularly strong, and relying on the Stone hadn’t helped. At this point he was reduced to physical power, another thing he’d never really had in ample supply – and the loss of his hand wasn’t helping.

“Leaving so soon, darling?”

That voice.

“We had a deal,” said Luxuria, stepping out of the shadows behind Systugi. Chartreuse eyes and razor-sharp teeth gleamed in the light of Systugi’s small lantern as the green-skinned figure grinned at him. It was not a friendly grin. “You’re an alchemist, technically; you should know how it works. It’s equivalent exchange, darling; to get something, you need to give something of equal value. We give you a ring, you give us Windspire.”

“Equal value?” scoffed Systugi. “Your ring was flawed. It ran out of power, it broke – it cost me _this_.” He waved the stump of his right arm in Luxuria’s face.

“It may have run out of power, darling, but so did you.” That grin seemed to grow even wider, taking on more overtones of a shark. “In fact, I believe you ran out _first_ when you let three outsiders take away half your followers in less than a day.”

“I know you’re here to kill me,” said Systugi. “That’s the price of failing a god, isn’t it? The wages of sin, and all that.” He smirked. “And, because I know it, I can do this-”

The pistol was in his hand immediately, and a shot rang out-

Luxuria casually sidestepped the bullet, their slim form crossing the space between them and the fallen cult leader with surprising speed. Slender fingers closed on the front of Systugi’s cassock, lifting him as if he weighed no more than a hamster. The gun clattered to the ground as Luxuria slammed him into the wall.

“I’m not here to kill you, darling,” breathed Luxuria.

“You’re not?”

“No.” Luxuria nodded into the darkness, and two spots of white light – a dead white, the white of stripped bone – cut through it. “But she is.”

After a few seconds, Systugi realised he was looking at a pair of eyes.

“Gula, dear sister,” added Luxuria, “are you hungry, by any chance?”

Another figure stepped into the circle of light.

The lantern actually seemed to dim as Gula emerged. This one was inhumanly tall and clad in a long burgundy robe, her expressionless eyes gazing out from deep, dark pits behind a bone-coloured mask. She carried a scythe, slung over one shoulder; combined with the hood and the mask, it was like watching the Grim Reaper step out of the shadows, coming for him.

Systugi’s voice died in his throat.

“He won’t be much of a meal,” said Gula dismissively, her contralto voice as deep and poisonous as a river of snake venom. “Such a tattered, wasted soul. Still…he may be of use. He still has some followers?”

Systugi nodded frantically.

“Oh, very well, then,” said Luxuria. “I’ve spent quite long enough talking to him for one lifetime, darling; I could probably fool the man’s own mother, assuming she’s still willing to speak to him anyway.” They made a dismissive gesture as green-edged darkness began to shroud them. “Go ahead.”

A clawed hand, glowing with purple light, sank into Systugi’s chest, passing _through_ the skin. All Systugi could do, the _last_ thing he would ever do, was scream.

“Really, darling,” said Luxuria, in Systugi’s voice, from behind a perfect replica of Systugi’s face. “Must you play with your food?”

It would be some time before the husk that was once Brother Systugi would be found.


End file.
